Finding Hope

It’d only been 3 days since the latest homicide had reached my desk, and still I had nothing to go on. I’d been pondering the weird murder for an hour already this morning and i just couldnt see how it managed to fit into the rest of the killings.

All other victims of The Barbershop Butcher had been women in their early twenties, and all of them had been employees of local strip clubs or bars in the NY area. This one though, was different. The same signs were there; a random shaved body part-normally an arm or leg, one mostly full can of shaving cream, and a red and white, barbershop pole colored razor, all left at the scene of the crime. This killing though, differed in the sense that it was an older man, roughly in his forties.

With a quick sip, i noticed my coffee was way past cold and so I decided maybe it was time for a fresh cup, and a cigarette break to clear my mind before starting again.

Grabbing my lighter, my coffee, and my last two smokes, I got up, pushing the chair back from my desk; a little too quickly though.

Violently, my knee bumped the desk, and cursing loudly, I dropped the coffee and cigarettes onto the paperwork below

“$#it” I shouted angrily, and then quickly scrambled to rescue the documents and the last of my smokes.

Then, Using most of a box of tissues, I mopped up what I could from the desk, and from everything else atop it, but the stains in the paperwork were certainly permanent. I’d have to re-file them all. Still, separating them to dry, it was there my anger started to subside.

One of the victims photos below, still had a bit of a puddle upon it, and in that small pool of coffee, it was there I noticed the tattoo. How had we all missed it before. Searching the next photo was where my thoughts were really confirmed though, this was it! On all the victims, in the areas they’d been shaved, the same tattoo was present. A small, upside down umbrella, with the word “Hope” weaved almost unnoticeably into it. This psycho WAS actually pointing us to the real clues all along.

A quick Google search of the image showed me it was the logo for a small, private institution, not too far from me. 5 minutes later I’d found an address, and in less than 20 I was in the parking lot outside.

The building was beautifully kept on it’s outside, and upon entering the lobby, it appeared even more pristine, almost like a hospital. It smelled similar too.

“Can I help you” said a short, plump women, resting behind the main desk

“Yes, I’m here about that logo.” I replied, pointing to a giant mural on the wall behind her. “I’d like to know why someone would find interest in getting that tattooed on themselves?”


TO BE CONTINUED...

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